by Chris Hechtl
“Yes... thankfully,” Shane said, smiling. “We're putting them to good use.”
“Yeah well, I got to thinking here, I mean, these bigger ones just shrug off some of the light rounds. Like hitting an elephant with a .22.”
“Yeah, we saw that. Unfortunately we didn't get much access to the armories on base or in the other police stations. If there was anything worth using to begin with.”
“Oh there was, probably got cleaned out in minutes though. But not what we needed. What I was thinking was RPGs.”
“Ah,” Shane said and nodded. “Rocket propelled grenades. You're talking about the original Soviet version right? Pipe with a football shaped warhead on the tip?”
“Yeah, see,” Kyle looked a little embarrassed. “See I improvised a few in my youth. Strictly as a science project you understand,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. The big lug looked embarrassed, Shane mused, amused.
“Yeah? I've got a checkered past too. We all do,” Shane said with a small smile. More than one gun nut had dabbled in things that went boom at one time or another. Hell that was part of the appeal.
“Yeah well, back in the day I took a couple of classes on making explosives with stuff you find in a kitchen and chemistry set. I saw that Terminator movie and well, it got me interested. I figured it'd come in handy detecting IED's and stuff.”
“Ah,” Shane said with a nod.
“What's up?” Hernandez said, coming over. Wayne looked up and came over. “Pow wow?” Hernandez asked.
“Nah, well sort of,” Kyle said with a snort. “I'm just telling the boss man we can make plastic explosives and RPGS. At least grenades. Not sure about the rocket part,” Kyle said.
“Oh we can do rockets,” the chemistry teacher said from nearby. They looked up to see him above them. He leaned over the railing. “Rubber, it's simple. I'll be right there,” he said and moved off toward the stairs.
“Rubber?” Wayne asked. He had just taken his turn in the shoot house and was curious about what the big boss was doing.
“I've heard it,” Kyle said, looking relieved. “Glad he has too. Who is he again?”
“Chemistry teacher dad. He's handling the science and math classes,” Jolie said coming up behind her dad. Kyle craned his neck around his chair to see her.
“He is? Classes?” He turned back to the others. They were starting to draw a crowd.
“We're going to get a simple school back up and running as soon as possible,” Shane said.
“To keep the kids busy, yeah,” Kyle said.
“No, not as much that as to get them educated. We have the benefit of a modern education. We have to look after the next generation,” the chemistry teacher said from the bottom of the stairs. “I've got some promising chemistry students. I think we can whip up a batch of rubber and make rockets. It'll take some testing though. I'll need acetone, glycerin...” He started to tick things off on his hands.
Jolie snorted. Kyle rolled his eyes. He pulled out a pad of papers. “Got mine right here,” he hesitantly handed it to Hernandez.
“Cool man, you took that course huh? I didn't get most of it. I can't remember some of the formulas. But I'm glad someone did,” the private said smiling as he flipped through the notes.
“Professor, why don't you take Jolie here, round up a few of your students that are awake and work on your project. Get Jen or Jayne to assign you space. Put the word out at meal time for anyone with rocketry experience to check in with you.”
“We'll need tubing. Thick tubing.”
“Sure, draw up a list and get it to Jayne, Jesse, or Walt. Walt and Jesse are our machinists; they should be able to help you out there. Anything we don't have we'll scavenge for or trade for.”
“Trade?”
“Trade,” Shane said nodding to Kyle. “The same goes for what you need and the end product.”
“Really?” Kyle said blinking.
“We'll have to set up an assembly line, maybe two and keep them separate,” Wayne mused. “I don't like the idea of anything going boom in here,” he said.
“Me neither,” Shane said shaking his head. “Okay, we'll see if a shop in Towngate or around Sams will work. Maybe even one of the big buildings if you need it.”
“The electronics for the warhead are simple. I figured out how to do a pressure switch for an impact or a standoff using a photocell. We'll need stuff though,” Kyle said, leaning forward and tapping at the papers.
Hernandez flipped through them until he got to the right page and then leaned over. “This it?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said eager.
“Okay, we can hit Best Buy and Radio Shack. Preferably Radio Shack,” Shane said. “Whatever we don't have off the shelf we'll have to scavenge out of toys and electronics. Wayne...”
“Get a team to Radio Shack and clean the place out. We already took the radios. I'll see if we can do a clean sweep this time,” he said nodding.
“Good. Kyle can you do a Fougasse cannon?” Shane asked, turning to the armorer.
“A Fougasse cannon?” the man said, sitting back and rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “Hmmm...”
“What the hell is that?” Wayne asked. “Or do I want to know?” he asked. The chemistry teacher shrugged. Hernandez looked up from the papers in his hands and grinned.
“Dude, nasty thing. Think claymore mine but with napalm. You can make one with a barrel and a bit of explosives at the bottom of it. It's like a mortar.”
“Um.. Doesn't sound like a cannon,” Wayne said, nose wrinkling.
“Its' nasty,” Shane said grinning evilly. “See you stick an explosive at the bottom. Any explosive will work, even gas or propane fumes. On top of that you've got your napalm and shrapnel. Oh say... bundles of nails, screws, scrap metal or, hell, even gravel, all nice and packed.” The others eyes lit at that. “You point it at an angle at where you expect your company to come, half bury it, and when they get within oh say, ten or so yards,” he glanced at Kyle for confirmation. The man nodded. “Then you set it off. Boom. The barrel is the barrel, the explosive pushes the stuff out in a wide shot gun spray...” He used his hands to demonstrate an in your face explosion.
“Instant hell on earth,” Kyle said grinning ear to ear. “Its a short ranged thing, a blunderbuss mortar. Think grapeshot. But its' a guaranteed slap in the face to any critter that comes calling. Even those big un's won't like it.”
“Right.”
“The cone for the RPG...” Hernandez asked.
“Copper cone. I figured we can get copper flashing or something and bend it into the right shape,” Kyle said pointing.
“Ah,” Hernandez said. “Why inverted?”
“It... Lookey,” Hernandez looked up at the armorer. Everyone was watching him. He cupped one hand and held it off to one side and put his finger behind it. “See, where my finger is is the explosive charge. Then you've got the cone here,” he traced his index finger and thumb, “Then in front we've got the detonator. When the detonator goes off it sends a signal to the explosive. That goes off and inverts the cone and liquefies it into a plasma. That plasma jet goes through the armor like a hot knife through butter,” Kyle said using his cone hand to form a point then flaring it wide.
“Its' not really a big boom. The damage is done internally,” Shane said nodding. Kyle glanced his way. “Military channel,” he said. Kyle grunted.
Hernandez looked down at the notes and then back up. “Where do we get the electric ignitors and squibs?” Hernandez asked frowning. “Just got to that part.”
“Shoot, that's um...”
“Electrical igniters’ from barbeques maybe?” Jolie asked. “You said they use crystals to create an electrical spark.”
“Maybe,” her father said frowning. “We can check out stuff at the toy store too.”
“Why?”
“Well, they may have rockets. Hobby stores might anyway, Toys’R’us might. Wal-Mart or Target too. That's where I thought we might get rockets if we can't make som
ething.”
“Ah,” Shane nodded. He glanced at Wayne.
Wayne gave a suffering sigh but nodded as he looked around to the listening crowd. “Right, check with the crew to see if we've got it in inventory and if not check the stores. Those stores will need to be swept anyway. I was planning on doing them this afternoon if the sun came out.”
“Okay,” Shane said. “Hernandez, professor, Kyle, get to work. Get Jayne or pull anyone you need in on this. Having an RPG to shove down one of those giant Hellcat things throat is mighty appealing.”
There was a general growl and cheer of agreement from the watching crowd. He nodded to a few faces.
“Well, when you put it that way....” Wayne grinned. “I'm not looking forward to running into one in those stores but I bet we can find a way to get them out. And these down the road will make it worth it. I hope,” he nodded and walked off whistling. The group broke up after that.
Chapter 20
Shane tried not to scowl as he got out of the truck. He was moving up in the world, it was a civilian grade hummer, not the Chevy Yukon he had, had before. He didn't have a clue where his truck had gone. Probably stuck in the wall or cut up and used as a generator. Or Julio had made off with it. Oh well. This thing was even green, albeit a glossy green with chrome trim.
He nodded to Wayne and the guys and gals with him. Wayne had called him in to talk to the people in the warehouses near Heacock and Cactus. They were entering their second week and things were settling in. That training time had done them all a world of good. Casualties had dropped after that.
“What's the problem?” he asked coming over. He looked across the street at the sound of shots. He frowned as a military hummer sped past on the other side of the moat and fence. Border patrol on the base must have run into something.
The others turned at the shots, all looking wary. Finally Wayne turned back to him after a moment. “That's one problem right there. They don't give a shit about what's going on out here apparently.”
“So I've heard. Hernandez tried to get in again but an MP team chased him and everyone else off.”
“Yeah,” Barry said and spat. “Everyone. Which means we're out in the cold. They even took over the civilian side again.”
“So I see,” Shane said with a nod. March had been divided, really split in half when the base had downsized in the nineteen-nineties. The surviving military half had been enclosed and re-purposed from a strictly Air Force base into a reserve and UAV base... which also occasionally flew fighter jets or tankers. Or cargo craft like the C-17.
He couldn't blame them for retaking the civilian side of the base. It was stupid on the face of it, it was more ground to cover... more buildings to check... but then again he didn't have a base with military weapons to use to secure it now did he?
“We're wondering how we can get our hands on some of the gear you folks have got. We've picked up weapons and food from the area, some people well...” Barry looked at Wayne.
“Found weapons?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah,” Barry drawled, rubbing at his arm as he looked away. “A couple of patrol cars that were abandoned, stuff like that.”
“Right,” Wayne said clenching his jaw. He knew what that meant. They all did.
“What we're wondering about is how to secure this place better. We heard some stories about what you folks are doing at the mall. We want to, well...”
“Do the same? Sounds good.”
“And well, we need food and weapons. More of them.”
“Don't we all,” a guy muttered.
“Some arrangement can be made. I'm not sure what we can trade there. We'll see.”
Barry heard that and colored. Shane held up his hand before he blew. “No, not quite what I meant. Not money. What we can do is offer some sort of quid pro quo. Trade. Barter. You've got warehouses full of stuff. We've got some of the same, plus we've got some people who are shooters like me who can take a look at things. Give you advice on how to cover your weak spots.”
“Um...” Barry looked at his supporters. They didn't look very supportive, Shane thought with a pang. Most looked scared shitless to be outside.
“Let’s take it one step at a time. This is a pretty good, pretty defensive spot you've picked.”
“It is?”
“Sure it is!” he said. “You are right across the street from the base. The base side has a moat and fence and has patrols so you don't have to worry about that side right off.”
“True.”
“Now, Heacock has the flood canal running down on the Western side. That's a ready moat right there, and the fencing is good too. Its low, but you can add to it.”
“Okay,” Barry said catching on.
“You've got fields of fire all around. Put people up on the roofs and they can act as spotters for you. Give them some phones or radios and they can relay information.”
“Gotcha,” Barry said nodding.
“Do you have any people with combat experience?”
Barry made a face. “Unfortunately only a few. They spend the nights keeping a watch. We've been lucky but...” He shrugged.
“We've got aliens in the trash cans now. And in some of the ducts,” a woman said.
“And in the rafters of some of the business buildings,” a guy muttered. They looked at him. He was standing downwind of the group. He had a white stain on one shoulder. Shane knew the story of Lowes and the other warehouse stores, he knew about the crap the aliens left behind. Or dropped on someone who wandered underneath. What bothered him was why didn't the guy just put a clean shirt on?
“Look, let's see the aliens in the dumpsters.”
“This way,” Barry said with a hand wave. “They are demons though, so far we can't kill them. Smart.”
“Demons?” Shane said as they climbed into the trucks and headed off. Barry was in his passenger seat to guide them. They passed through check points and moved into the rear of one of the nearby warehouses. Trash was piled up near a concrete enclosure.
“Yeah,” Barry said when they pulled up. “Demons,” he waved. People milling about were coming over to see what was going on.
“Little bastards about a meter high. Long ears, nasty suckers. Claws, teeth, spikes...” He shivered.
“Four eyes, snout, black or red or purple and walking on two legs?”
“Yeah,” Barry said shivering.
“The red ones have wings?”
Barry shook his head. “Haven't seen them.” He grimaced after a moment. “Then again, we don't get out much. This is the most I've been outside in a while.”
“Okay, the black or purplish ones we call Gremlins. They are the males as far as we can tell. The red ones with the wings are the females. We call them Creeplings. They are smaller and more numerous.”
“Oh.”
“Don't worry about it.” He walked over to the wall and stood on his tip toes, hand on his gun. Carefully and quietly he looked over the side. The entire enclosure was full of trash. After a minute of studying the pile and trying to hold his breath he let it out. When he did he heard and saw a rustling of trash. After a moment there was a squall and squeal and thrashing and then it quieted.
“Yeah, that's not someone hiding in there. Not human anyway. Not a Terran animal either,” he said. He kept a wary eye on the area. The aliens were using the bins as cover, burying themselves in the trash. Anyone who came close was either dead meat or chased off. They might even be under it. Lovely.
He pursed his lips and blew air out in a putt putt for a second then smiled. “Hey Mick, Bobby, go get the spare cans of fuel. And a flare.”
“Shit boss,” Bobby said with a snort. He looked over to the guy. He had been resting against a bumper, arms crossed and just taking the situation in. “Think it’s that simple?”
“Why not?” Shane asked. He looked around and then pointed. “Tater, take a couple of guys up on that roof overlooking this bin. Wayne, get a few people to form a perimeter around this, way back. Tater
make sure they spot the aliens for us and keep us in the loop. Don't fire unless it gets bad.”
“Roger,” Tater said with a nod. Bobby shrugged and moved off. Mick was already rummaging through the back of a jeep for the spare gas can.
“What are you going to do?” Barry asked.
“A little Gremlin bonfire.”
“Um...”
“Don't worry. But I'd have some people standing by with water and fire extinguishers just in case. Can you have some people show Tater how to get to the roof? They may want to watch from up there until the smoke drives them off.”
“Sure,” Barry said with a grin. “Damn why didn't we think of this?” he asked.
“Sometimes people think of a frontal assault when subtlety is the answer. If you can't dig them out, flush them out. Or watch them roast,” Shane said with a grin.
“Yeah well, let's see how it works first,” Bobby muttered. He held up the can in one hand and a road flare.
...*...*...*...*...
They waited until Tater and Wayne had their people in place. While they were waiting someone got an idea and came back with a hand pump pesticide sprayer. Bobby loaded it with the gas and then used it to spray the tops of the trash and the inside of the concrete enclosure. When he was done they tossed in a couple of oily rags for good measure.
“Here goes,” Mick said. He nodded to Bobby. Bobby snapped the end of the flare, triggering it. He held it up over his arm and then pitched it overhand into the enclosure.
The fumes ignited first, sending a fireball skyward. Then the entire enclosure was an inferno. He grinned as he heard the crackle of the flames and then inhuman screams of the aliens. “Now that's cool,” he said. “Or should I say hot. Roasting even.”
“Yeah,” Shane said with a nod, eyes watching the flames warily. There was sudden motion and something leaped out and dropped into the parking lot.
“Take it out!” Wayne said, firing. The Gremlin was on fire, blinded, in pain and thoroughly confused. It whirled about, not knowing where to go or what to do when a load of buckshot slammed into it. A second and third shot dropped it to the ground. It seemed to wheeze and then gave up the ghost, hand reaching to the sky and then flopping down.